Note: The characters from "Forever Knight" are owned by Sony Tri-Star. The characters from "Xena Warrior Princess which was created by Rob Tapert and John Schulian and is owned by Renaissance Studios, MCA/Universal and StudiosUSA. All other characters are mine and are fictional. Any use of real names is purely coincidental.


Chapter 1

The sun had recently set over Tucson's western mountains, allowing the nocturnal shroud to descend upon the Sonoran Desert once again. Marvin Lowmiller opened the door to his twelfth street apartment just south of the university. It had been an extremely hard day at work between the meetings, disagreements with his bickering co-workers, and an animated argument with his boss. After all of that, he wanted to relax and have a drink. He walked over to the refrigerator and pulled on the handle. As if in protest, the door to the ancient appliance creaked open.

Reaching toward the pitcher of Tequila Sunrise left over from the night before, he promised himself, "Just one glass. I'll just have one...." 

Pouring himself a glass, he collapsed into his dilapidated recliner and guzzled his refreshment before pouring himself another....

*****

Three hours and the whole pitcher later, the angry man dozed in an alcoholic stupor. This was his time of peace and quiet. Nobody yelling at him...no bratty kid...no crabby ex-wife...nor anybody else. He snored loudly, not caring if he disturbed anyone.

At this point, the door opened again. Lowmiller's son, Raymond, crept nervously into the room. Seeing his father sleeping on the couch, the kid hoped he could get to his room in peace. The bruises from the previous night's beating still ached on his arms and right side. Moving as lightly as he could, Ray tiptoed toward his bedroom door.

The father slowly opened his eyes at a particularly loud creak. "Ray, is that you, Boy?"

"Y...Yes, Dad," the boy stammered. "I just got home from school."

Lowmiller frowned. He knew that his son's classes had ended two hours before. The guidance counselors were probably filling his young head with foolish ideas about parental abuse. Well, this would end. Now. "Late again, huh? Stupid! Didn't I tell you 'bout that?" he slurred angrily.

"S...Sorry." Ray trembled, his hair standing on end in fearful anticipation of another beating.

The older man rose with great effort from his chair. "C'mere!"

"I didn't...." Ray protested.

"Damn it! Don't lie to me!" Lowmiller scowled and struck his son across the face hard.

The boy recoiled, his lip bloodied, and the tears streaming down his cheeks. The throbbing began in his side again. Ray, to his credit, realized there was no reasoning with his father on this night. The man was too drunk to care what happened. Grabbing his coat, he ran from the dwelling and ran straight north as if the hounds of Hell were on his tail.

****

With the coming of night, Alyce Harris rose from her bed with a groan. The night before, she had performed preliminary research on several exhibits for the museum. Progress reports were due by the following evening to the main curator.

"Oh well," she sighed to herself. "You wanted to be the night curator." She looked at her watch and remembered the dinner appointment that she had with David and Angie Dubois. "I'll just make it to the café." After selecting a brown business suit with a white blouse, the immortal academic opened a window, and took off into the evening sky.

***

Dave sighed deeply and reclined in his office chair. It happened. It had finally happened. When Jerry Thomas, the longtime Europeanist had retired from the History Department, he had recommended that Dave take his place. And with an offer like that, how could he refuse?

Yup, this is going to be great! He took a contentedly sip from his bottle of Pepsi One. For the hundredth time, he scrutinized the syllabus for the Crusades seminar. Everything seemed in order, which of course, he knew was true. The bookstore had told him they had received the texts. The other readings sat on the reserve room shelf downstairs, awaiting his students, who he knew from the class list, were the best the department had to offer. What else could a professor want?

Just then, a knock came from the door. Reaching out with his psychic senses, he determined the visitor's identity immediately. "Come in, Princess. The door's open," he chuckled to his wife.

Angie smiled warmly as she entered the office. "Can't I surprise you about anything?" she teased, although she didn't mind Dave's elatedness. After all of his dark moods, she certainly wasn't going to do anything to ruin the moment. Rather than say anything else, she walked over and kissed his cheek.

"Well, since I can't read your mind, you can tell me. Anything earth shattering?" he asked.

"Other than the fact that Alyce and Eve are waiting to meet us for dinner, no...I don't think so. Let's get a move on," she declared.

"Yes'm," he stated and picked up his satchel. "Now, shall we?"

"We shall," she giggled and led him out the door.


Chapter 2

Alyce landed just behind the museum. From here, it was only a short walk over to the restaurant, and she would have a few minutes to check her email. She walked around to the front of the building and admired the student traffic going through the Speedway underpass. Several students waved to her, and she returned the greeting. Yes, she was definitely glad that she had settled in the Old Pueblo.

Then, as she turned to make her way up the stairs, her enhanced hearing picked up on a peculiar voice. A young boy sobbed miserably from within the museum. Fearing the worst, she raced up the stairs and into the lobby of the building. Sweeping the marble-walled lobby, she sought out the sound's source. Peering under the twisting staircase, she found him cringing in terror and nursing his bruises. "Are you all right?"

He crawled further back into the space. "Don't hurt me...." he sobbed.

She exhaled deeply. Who could have done this to the boy? Well, she needed to find out. "I'm not going to hurt you. I just want to know your name. Just your name."

Ray looked at the strange woman anxiously. Something about her indicated that he could trust her. "I...I'm Ray."

Alyce smiled warmly, "Thank you, Ray. My name is Alyce. Can I get you something?"

"A glass of water...p...please," he requested skittishly.

"Certainly." she nodded and walked over to the nearby fountain. Pulling a paper cup from the dispenser beside it, she filled it and brought it to him. "There you go."

"Th...Thank you," he sighed deeply and gulped the drink nervously.

She studied the young man carefully. With her senses, she could tell that he was extremely agitated and, from the faint gurgling sounds in his stomach, he was hungry. "Ray," she asked. "Have you eaten anything today?"

"Well, I...had a piece of toast this morning," he replied, eyeing her suspiciously. "Why? You're not going to take me to jail! I didn't do anything! Honest!"

The curator backed up and reassessed the situation. Obviously, somebody had beaten the young man within an inch of his life and left him afraid of his own shadow. Something needed to be done, but first, he needed to eat dinner. "No, I'm not going to take you to jail. Please relax, Ray. You haven't done anything."

"Then what...?" he probed.

She sighed despondently and continued. "I'm meeting some friends for dinner. Would you like to come with me?"

He tensed. "If I go back out there, he'll find me!"

"Who will find you? Can we call your parents?" she inquired curiously.

"No!" he protested. "My Mom's in Albuquerque. She doesn't know about this situation. My Dad ...well...I've been bad. He keeps me in line, but it's for my own good.... If you call him, he'll beat me for sure!"

"But isn't he worried about you?" Alyce countered.

He snickered cynically, "Nah, he's too drunk to care about much of anything. But, if you call him, he'll beat me." Then, the wild-eyed fearful look returned to his eyes. "Please, Miss Alyce, I'll go with you, but don't call him...."

"What did you do that he had to hit you?" she asked.

"M...My teachers wanted me to stay after school. I called and left a message at home. But, I guess he was too trashed to care." he shuddered. "When I got home, he was already drunk and...he ...." Overcome by anguish, he began to sob uncontrollably. "H...Help me, please...."

"Well, first, we're going to go eat. Then, if you would like, we can call your mother," she offered.

"Th...Thank you," the boy gasped and hugged his new friend tightly.

"Shh...It's going to be all right," she assured him. "Now, let's get to the café."

"O...Okay," he relented and followed close behind her.

****

Fifteen minutes later, Dave, Angie, and Eve sat around an old oak table, waiting for Alyce to join them. Everyone had been involved with complicated reports, long meetings, and midterms. A good dinner followed by a long sleep was on everyone's agenda. What they didn't know was that the evening would be far from relaxing....

Angie looked at her menu curiously. There were so many yummy choices. They would bring dinner home for the girls. Deirdre loved tuna and the twins liked chicken salad. They had been so good lately, putting up with their parents' long hours. Francesca was spending quality time with them so they wouldn't feel neglected. But, as for herself, she needed to decide on an entrée. "Dave, what do you think?"

The newly-minted History professor looked up from his menu. "Hmm? About what?"

"Dinner, Dummy, what else?" she teased.

He gave her hand a playful squeeze. "The roast beef melt looked really good, Princess. Either that or the lamb stew."

"The stew sounds great," she agreed. "Eve?"

Her friend looked up at her. The Religion professor could sometimes be confused by Angie's questions. On the one hand, she was her colleague. On the other hand, due to the fact that the spirit of her mother, Xena, resided inside of Angie, the meaning could be maternal as well. "I'm going with the Greek salad."

"That sounds great," he agreed and looked around for Alyce. He sensed her presence coming into the restaurant. But, she's not alone. Somebody with pain...great pain....  His scalp went numb and he winced.

Angie hugged her husband's shoulders. "Hey, are you...?" she asked anxiously.

"No...I'm not." he smoldered.

Eve saw Alyce approaching the table with a young boy, but recoiled at the latter's condition. "Eli, have mercy," she whispered.

The oncologist noticed their friend approaching them. A split second later, she felt Ray's pain as well. Now, she knew what was causing Dave's latest fit. Something was very wrong here....

"Hi, everyone," Alyce greeted. "Sorry I'm late, but I met somebody on the way here. This is Ray. Ray, these people are friends of mine. Meet Eve Messenger, Angie Dubois, and David Dubois."

"Hi there," Eve greeted.

"Nice to meet you, Ray." Angie smiled.

Dave looked up and nodded. With great effort, he managed to keep the Child in check. "Please join us. Are you from around here?"

"Yes, Sir. I live pretty close by," the boy replied.

Dave considered his new friend's words carefully. There was the nagging feeling pervading his consciousness.... "And your folks...Are they working right now?"

Ray bit his lip nervously. For some reason, this man was playing with him and his eyes seemed to penetrate right into the latter's skull. Just who was this creepy guy anyway?

Angie stared at her husband anxiously, wondering what he was trying to gain.

He gave her a comforting pat on the shoulder and continued, "Don't worry, Son. I'm not going to report you. I was just wondering if we should help you get some medical attention."

"No! I'll be fine. Honest!" the young man protested. He knew there would be questions if they went to the hospital.

From within Dave's head, the Child moaned fretfully. He knew the signs...even if Ray wouldn't admit it. The bruises, the downtrodden look, the skittish/frightened puppy attitude...the young man was being abused. "Are your parents at home so we can call them?"

"My mother lives in Albuquerque. After the divorce, my Dad and I came here. He works hard all day and comes home. I try to leave him alone, but...." Ray sighed.

"But what...?" Alyce inquired.

"But, I'm a bad kid," Ray continued.

Angie shot him an incredulous look. "Excuse me, Ray, but you don't seem to be the type. Who would tell you that?"

"Your father, right?" Dave added knowingly.

Ray jumped back in his seat nervously. "N...No, he wouldn't!"

"Then who?" Dave continued. "I agree with Angie. You seem like a really nice guy. Trust me, you don't have to take that from anyone."

"But...but, fathers have to keep discipline..." the boy blurted out. Then, realizing his slip, he clammed up and sat there, arms folded, and a glare aimed back at the History professor. "Besides, how would you know?"

The man across the table smiled uneasily at the question. "Because, I've been there, Kid. And no, keeping discipline doesn't give anyone the right to beat on you physically, mentally, or emotionally." A shudder shot through Dave, and a tear drizzled down his left cheek.

Ray scratched his head perplexedly and turned to Alyce. "Is he okay?"

The curator assessed the situation and shook her head, "No, Ray. He's not. He's had long standing problems of his own."

"But...but, it's nothing that you did," Dave assured his young acquaintance and steeled himself. "Now, let's get something to eat."

"What do you think I should get?" Ray probed.

"Anything you want," Angie commented. "It's our treat."

"Th...Thank you," the boy stated appreciatively and looked over the menu for his choice as the waitress approached.

Chapter 3

Nick looked around the bullpen. So far, so good...no sign of Ramirez. The captain had been on edge for the last few evenings. Consequently, the vampire detective wanted no part of his superior. He made his way to his desk just as the phone rang.

"Miles," he replied.

"Hi, Nick. It's Nat. Listen, are you, Trace, and Schank ready for those results? I just finished the report," Natalie informed him.

He spied Schanke and Tracy entering the area and signaled for them to join him. "Sure, we'll be right down. Give us a minute."

"Great! See you then!" Nat concluded and hung up.

Schanke leaned over the desk and asked, "What's up, Nick? Was that Nat?"

Nick nodded. "Indeed. She has the Reilly report ready downstairs."

"Good. I'll tell ya, I'll be glad to get this case put to bed," the paunchy detective fretted, looking over his shoulder.

"I know what you mean," Tracy concurred. "Now, let's see that report...."

****

Natalie stirred a beaker of orange liquid with a wooden spoon. The file was indeed ready, but she had finished her latest treatment for Nick's condition. Six months of hard work had gone into this mixture, but this time, they might have it licked. She held the beaker to the light. The artificial hemoglobin had a special mixture of Vitamin A byproducts and donor white blood cells contained with it. The coroner was particularly pleased with the cherry taste.

Then, she felt the telltale feeling, letting her know Nick was close by. "Nick?"

"Yeah, it's me, Nat," he answered. "Along with Trace and Schank. What do you have for us?"

The ME slipped into her official role. "Emily Reilly was stabbed and poisoned."

Schanke and Tracy looked at each other. They hadn't seen any stab wounds on the victim. Finally, Tracy asked, "So, how?"

Natalie smiled mischievously. Sometimes it was fun when you had the answers. "I was just as mystified as you until I did the blood work."

"And?" Schanke urged.

"And, there was enough curare in her to kill twenty mortals," Nat continued, giving Nick a glance. "The needle mark was beneath the third fingernail on her right hand."

"So, the curare killed her? I thought that stuff only worked on vampires," Tracy winced, recalling what Vachon had told her.

"Curare only has a tranquilizing effect on us, Tracy. It's a deadly poison for mortals," Nick noted while looking at the beaker resting on Natalie's desk.

Natalie handed the folder to Schanke and chuckled at her immortal friend's discovery. "Yes, Nick. It is."

Tracy verbally nudged, "It's what?"

"Another of her food supplements." Nick winced, already feeling his stomach protesting at the thought of the previous attempts.

"Oh come on, Nick. At least try it," Natalie shook her head.

Tracy grinned. "Go on, Nick. Take your medicine like a man."

Schanke shook his head at the blonde detective beside him. "Tracy, there's no need to rub it in." Then, he assured Nick, "If you need anything, Bud. I'm here."

"I know." Nick smiled and set his jaw. Picking up the beaker, he fought the urge to dump it down the sink.

Everyone watched him anxiously.

"Down the hatch," he sighed and guzzled the concoction. For a long minute, he waited for the usual nausea.

"So?" Natalie asked.

"I feel fine...." Nick told her. "In fact, I...."

"What?" Natalie insisted. "Nick?"

The vampire doubled over in pain as the delayed nausea hit him. He reached the sink and surrendered his last feeding to Tucson's sewage system.

"Hey," Schanke stated, rushing over to his side. "Are you okay?"

"I'll be fine...." Nick assured his friend. "Sorry, Nat."

The coroner shrugged. "Well, it was a good attempt in any event."

"I can get the file upstairs," Tracy offered. "Nick, I'm sorry if I upset 
you before."

Her partner waved it off. "That's okay, Trace. Now, get that stuff up to Ramirez before he blows a gasket. You too, Schank. I'll be there in a minute."

"Okay," Tracy agreed. "If you say so." She left the exam room and headed upstairs.

Schanke gave his friends the thumbs-up and followed the younger detective to the bullpen.

Nick shook his head. "I tried, Nat. Sorry," he apologized.

"At least you did that, Nick. Thanks. I appreciate that. Now, I guess Ramirez is waiting," Natalie agreed and smiled warmly.

He sighed in discomfort and stood up straight. He managed a warm grin for the coroner and left the area, leaving Natalie alone to her thoughts.

Chapter 4

Lowmiller stirred in his chair. Where was his son? Then, he remembered. The miserable brat had run away again. Well, he knew he would never find the little cuss on his own. No, he'd better go file the paperwork with the police. That way, they could track Ray down and he could wait for the call. Besides, he thought as he put on his coat and started for his car, that way he would have more energy to lay into his son with when they got back there....

***********************************

Nick walked up the stairs to the bullpen. His complexion still held a greenish pallor and the waves of nausea continued to assault his stomach. Struggling to reach his desk, he collapsed into the chair and took several deep breaths.

"Are you okay, Detective?" Chris Novak inquired.

The vampire detective looked over his right shoulder to see the pleasant desk sergeant standing over him and examining his appearance.

"It was something I ate...it didn't go down the right way," he continued.

Chris winced. "I would say not. Sorry, Nick, but you look like death warmed over. Maybe after your meeting with the captain, you should book off."

He looked up at her and sighed, "Okay, I think I will." He rose slowly and made his way across the bullpen. Once at the door, he rapped loudly.

"Detective Miles?" Ramirez inquired.

"Yes," Nick replied and walked into the office.

Ramirez studied the detective carefully. Schanke and Brown had advised him about Miles' condition. "Are you all right? This can wait...."

"No, let's proceed with the case," Nick urged. "May I sit down?"

The captain nodded, "Absolutamente! Sienta te, por favor."

"Gracias," Nick managed and slumped into the chair.

"Okay," Ramirez continued. "Nick, I have already delivered this message to your partners, and I'll say the same to you...Good work. There are some inconsistencies with this case, but nothing we can't solve later. Go home and get some rest."

Nick looked at the other man in disbelief. It couldn't have been that easy. Could it? "Anything else?"

"Nothing for now. Go home," Ramirez assured him.

The vampire detective nodded and worked his way back to his desk chair. He dropped heavily into it and looked at Schanke and Tracy who eyed him carefully. "What?" he asked.

"Nick, are you okay?" Schanke probed. "You're greener than you were downstairs."

"I'll get the paperwork done, Nick," Tracy offered. "You get back to your loft."

Nick nodded absently and started to rise. Then, he noticed the messy-looking Caucasian man stride into the station and walk over to Sergeant Novak's desk. Oh well, it was probably nothing and the way he felt at the moment, it shouldn't concern him in any event. Maybe, if the Duboises were close by, they could give him a ride home. He took out his cell phone and dialed their number. However, there was no answer. Given these circumstances, he wondered if someone would be willing to give him a ride home.


*****************************

The Duboises, Alyce, and Ray had a great meal at the cafe. For his part, the timid young man had developed a small measure of trust for these people. The others, for their part, enjoyed his company. Now, as promised, they returned to the museum, and let Ray call his mother. Since she had changed her name to Anita Fisher after leaving Tucson, it took some doing to find her. But, eventually, the number was located and the call was made.

"Hello?" Anita answered.

"Mom?" Ray greeted. "It's me."

"Ray? Is that you? What's going on?" she probed. "Is everything all right?"

"Now, I'm fine. I met some people at the university and...well, I'm feeling better. Still hurts though..." he explained.

"What still hurts? Ray, did your father hit you? You tell me if he did," she demanded.

Ray sighed guiltily. He had slipped again. No wonder his father thought he was a bad person. "He did, Mom. I deserved it....."

"No, you didn't. Ray, can you stay safe until I get there? This time, he won't be able to lie his way through custody proceedings. I'll be there as fast as I can. Can you put one of the people on please? Thanks, son for calling me and letting me know," she assured him.

Ray handed the phone to Alyce. "My mother wants to talk to you," he informed her.

The curator nodded. "Hi, Ms. Fisher, this is Dr. Alyce Harris, I'm the night curator at the university museum. What can I do for you?"

Anita responded, " How badly is my son hurt, Dr. Harris?"

Alyce detailed, "He's bruised and his eye's swollen. I found him in the museum, hiding in a closet when I started my shift tonight. He won't talk about his father."

"I would guess not," Ray's mother stated grimly. "That man doesn't have a responsible bone in his body. Has he eaten anything?"

"My associates at the university and I fed him over at the cafe. He really likes ham and beans," Alyce assured her.

"He always did," the worried mother agreed. "Dr. Harris, I'm on my way to Tucson from Albuquerque even if I have to drive all night to get there. Can I call you tomorrow when I arrive?"

"Absolutely, my number is (520) 621-5432. Meantime, I'll see what I can do for your son," the curator agreed. "See you soon."

"Sure...and thank you, Dr. Harris. I'll be in touch and thank you for keeping Ray safe," Anita concluded and hung up.

"Right," Alyce agreed and hung up as well. She walked over to Ray who was sipping on a can of Coke. "Your mother will be here tomorrow. Meantime, we might want to keep you in a safe place."

"What about my father? He'll get mad if I don't call," Ray gulped nervously.

"We can call him when we get to my friend's place. You'll like him," she noted.

"If...If you say so," Ray agreed albeit nervously.

"Sure," Alyce added. "Let's go and see what Dave, Angie, and Eve are doing. Then, when we're ready, we can go over there."

*******************************

Dave sat beside the window and stared out into the night. He promised Angie and Eve that he would see Ray to a safe place when they had left. Besides, looking at that young man, sent him back to a time long before....a time he had forgotten....

But the Child hadn't......

************************************

(Ludlow, MA, September 1982)

Dave ran into the house from school. Between the exams and his class project, life was certainly challenging enough for the high school sophomore and he only had a few minutes to get ready for his evening job at the library. As usual, his grandmother had left a plate with two chocolate chip cookies and a glass of iced tea on the table as an after-school treat. 

"Hi, Dave," his grandmother called, coming into the room.

"Hi, Gram," he replied pleasantly. "How's everything?" Then, he noticed the embers in the fireplace. "Why did you need a fire today? It's seventy degrees outside."

The older woman frowned. "Your father wants to talk to you. He'll be back in a minute."

He trembled fearfully. Stuart Dubois was known for his fierce temper tantrums and stubborn attitudes. "Can't this wait? I have to get to work," he indicated while running up the stairs.

Janet Dubois called up the stairs, "No, it can't. He's not happy."

The teenager frowned and responded sharply, "When is he ever happy with me?" Then he noticed that his door was ajar. That's odd. I know I closed it this morning. Giving it a slight push, the room seemed fine, but the young man knew somebody had been in there. Then he dropped his jaw in horror.  His books were gone...and his notes had been rifled through. Dave felt his emotions churning inside of him. He thought of the fireplace downstairs. It had been odd to have a fire burning today. Now, he knew why.

"So, you've discovered that your books are gone," his father's voice sounded behind him.

"Why, Dad? Why?" the young man moaned.

"Because I won't have any book worms in the family! Damn it! You're the oldest son. My oldest son! You'll be a plumber just like the rest of us and like it!" his father screamed.

"No!" Dave denied the last statement.

"What was that?" the elder man bellowed.

"I said I won't! I made a promise and I'm sticking by it!" the boy challenged.

"I'll teach you!" the man snarled and backhanded his son repeatedly across the face. I brought you into this world, and I can take you from it as well...as well...as well."

***********************

The words still stung thirteen years later, sending another shudder through Dave.

C'mon! he advised himself. The kid's scared enough! No sense in getting him anymore worked up. Cool it.

He rose from the chair in the corner with great effort and motioned for Alyce and Ray to join him. The sooner they got the kid to Nick's loft, the sooner he could get home and deal with the Child's moods.

(Additional note, yes, I am about to take tremendous liberties with the timelines of both Xena and FK-just bear with me, it will be worth it! :) )

Chapter 5

Schanke's station wagon sped through the downtown section and along Congress St. Finally, after what seemed to be an eternity, but in reality was only ten minutes, the detective slammed on the brakes in front of his friend's warehouse loft.

"Here we are, Partner," he indicated. "Do you need a hand?"

Nick looked up. Although his stomach was a bit less nauseous from Natalie's drink, the vampire knew that he would need rest. He also sensed Janette close by. "I think I'll be okay, Schank," he indicated. "Thanks anyway."

Schanke scratched his head in confusion. Granted, Nick had great recuperative abilities, but he was still sick. "If you say so, but I'm stayin' put until I know you're okay."

"That is admirable, Detective Schanke," Janette replied pleasantly as she landed beside the paunchy detective's side of the car. "But, I can take care of Nicolas."

Schanke regarded the vampiress. Even before he knew what she was, he had sensed from their encounters at the Raven that she was not a woman to be taken lightly. If she said that Nick would be taken care of, then it would be so. "Thanks. In that case, I'll be heading back to the precinct. Oh, by the way, Natalie and Tracy should be dropping the Caddy off here within the hour."

Janette nodded and opened the passenger door. Gently easing her shoulder under Nick's left arm, she braced her master and helped the latter to his feet. "Thank you, Detective, for assisting Nicolas. It is very much appreciated."

"No problemo." Schanke smiled. "Nick's my friend. He would do the same for me. Well, call if you need anything."

"Thank you. I will," she concluded and helped Nick toward the door. Once out of earshot of the car, she murmured to her charge. "Let me guess, Natalie's been trying to cure you again."

"Her intentions are good, Janette." Nick coughed.

Opening the door and assisting him into the lift, she chuckled, "I'm sure, but the road to Hell is paved with good intentions, eh? Certainly, you would have learned by now."

Nick sighed painfully as they made their way to his bedroom, and he slumped on his bed. Once there, he was out like a light.

Janette shook her head. She knew that Nick wanted mortality, but she didn't want to watch as he suffered as well. "Que sera, sera," she surmised and walked back downstairs.

**********

At that moment, across town at KRAN, LaCroix sat down at the microphone and slipped on his headset. After a day of deliberation, he decided to let his audience have an "open session". For the sake of popularity, the general mused, best to let the masses maintain the fantasy that they had some form of control. He took a draught from the glass of blood-merlot beside him and looked up at the clock. "Hmm...10 PM, show time."

He turned on the microphone and started, "Good Evening, Gentle Listeners. This is the Nightcrawler once again, and I will be here with you for a while yet. There is no specific topic tonight. The floor is yours...."

The red light on his phone blinked incessantly at the vampire DJ.

"I believe we have a call," LaCroix crooned and spoke into the mike, "You are on the air."

"Y...Yeah. How'ya doin'?" a drunken voice replied.

"I'm fine. The question, my friend, is, how are you?" the DJ probed.

The man coughed abruptly, "Cripe! It's my kid, he keeps running off. Never listens to me. I always have to beat some sense into him. Stupid brat."

LaCroix shrugged. "You are the father, are you not?"

"Damn straight," the other stated emphatically.

"Well now, you do have the right to enforce the rules of your household," LaCroix advised. As soon as he said it, he smiled to himself and hoped that David Dubois was listening. That statement was certain to make the insolent mortal fly into a rage.

He noticed that the phone lights were going off at the last statement in sequence. So, the self-appointed bleeding hearts were responding. Good, let them.... Meantime, this particular mortal merited all of his attention. "Tell me, where is the boy now?"

"Hell if I know. I've been looking for him, but he vanished into thin air!" the man bellowed. "Ray has always been a disappointment. His mother mucked with his head, and now, I can't keep him in line."

"Do what you must, my friend. You are the father, and, as the head of the household, you have the right to keep control." LaCroix concluded and moved through the next batch of calls. As he did so, his mind flashed back.....


(Pompeii, 79 AD)

Lucius prepared stringently for his next campaign. The Emperor needed him and his step-sister, Livia, to head north and take out the remaining barbarian tribes in Gaul and western Germania. While equal in rank, as head of the familia, it was he who controlled the flow of the planning.

The younger woman seethed at this turn of events. For the past three years, she had received the subtle whisperings from Ares, the god of war, himself. She knew what needed to be done. Still, she had to flatter her step-brother. "We head north through Gaul and annihilate the remaining hordes," she stated.

"Germania is weaker, Livia, and we will go through there first," he disagreed.

"And pray tell why? Ares says..." she started.

He growled, "I don't care what you think Ares said! I think we should go here."

"Even when he says otherwise?" the female warrior contradicted.

The general ground his teeth in rage. "I have made my offering at his temple, and I know my plan! As the paterfamilias of this house, I will lead!"

Livia's hand instinctively moved to her sword, but did not grasp it. While she was grateful that Gaius Martellius had raised her as one of his own, her allegiance did not automatically transfer to his pretentious heir. Lucius had always looked out for himself first in all things...especially when it came to his military command. "I will go and say farewell to Divia," she informed the other and walked back toward the house, leaving the other to his pathetic musings....

*******

(Back in the Present)

LaCroix sighed. Seeing Livia again, especially in her pathetic guise as the Messenger of Eli, brought back painful memories. Rather than dwell on them, he moved onto the next call, preferring to deal with the present rather than the past.

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